The Tycoon's Proposal

by Leigh Michaels

  He shot a glance at Lissa, who seemed to be studying a display of ropes and crampons. She looked guilty—there was no other word for it. “How big is this tree, exactly?”

  “I figure we’ll need to use every ornament in the house if we decorate it properly,” his grandmother said. “Which is lovely, because then when the tree comes down after the holidays I can sort all the decorations out and set aside a boxful for each member of the family—the special things that will have memories for them. There are at least a dozen ornaments somewhere that you made in grade school. You used to send me one for Christmas each year. Remember?”

  “I’ve done my best to forget. How did you get this thing home? Tie it on top of the car? That must have been a sight.”

  Lissa shifted her feet. “Well, that’s something we should probably talk about.”

  He groaned. “I suppose you want me to take charge? All right—tell me where it is.”

  She looked doubtful. “Are you offering to pick it up in the Jaguar?”

  “Of course not. The store has delivery trucks.”

  Lissa looked around. “At the rate people are buying treadmills and weight benches, we might get a delivery by New Year’s Day.”

  “I’m the boss. They’ll do what I tell them.”

  “And you’re so good at bossing, too,” his grandmother said warmly. “At any rate, don’t concern yourself about the tree—we’ve got that all figured out. Now, let’s get out of the way and let him go back to being the boss, Lissa.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” he said. “I could use a little fresh air after that climb, anyway.”

  The crowd made navigating difficult. Hannah dawdled behind for a while, looking at sports socks on an end cap, and then, making up her mind, hurried ahead of them toward the checkout lanes with some merchandise in hand.

  Kurt felt like the first skier on a run after a big snow—it was exhausting just to break a trail through the crowd.

  They reached the entrance, and Kurt leaned against one of the granite pillars just inside the main doors. A woman—not much more than a teenager—who was just coming in from the parking lot spotted him, flicked a hand over her hair, batted her eyes, and shifted course to come straight toward him.

  “They start young, don’t they?” Lissa murmured. She leaned against the pillar next to him and eyed the young woman, and to Kurt’s utter amazement the woman flushed pink and veered off toward camping goods.

  “How did you do that?” he asked.

  “Do what? All I did was look at her. I think she just got cold feet when you glared. About this Christmas tree, Kurt.” She sighed. “I think Hannah saw my little tree yesterday when you carried it in. It was right on top of a crate, and I think that’s what gave her the notion.”

  “Oh—of course.” He remembered his own reaction to seeing that pathetic, straggly little artificial tree with its five too-big ornaments. Gran, sentimental old darling that she was, would have felt even more strongly that anyone who could cherish such a bedraggled little tree deserved a real one.

  “So if you want to blame me,” Lissa said, “I guess you can go right ahead.”

  “Oh, what the hell?” he said. “It’s her last Christmas in the house—she should have whatever she wants.”

  His grandmother came up to them, triumphantly waving a shopping bag emblazoned with the penguin which was Maximum Sports’ mascot and logo, and he pushed the door open for her.

  Lissa shot a look up at him. “I’m really glad you feel that way,” she murmured.

  Kurt’s veins prickled—and not just because of the cold wind. There was something about her tone…

  He scanned the parking lot, looking for the small, faded red car, and blinked in astonishment as his grandmother stopped beside a very different vehicle. A dark green and obviously spanking new sport utility vehicle. And on top of it, neatly bound with rope and tied down tight with bungee cords—

  It wasn’t the tallest pine tree he’d ever seen, but it was certainly the longest he’d ever encountered in a horizontal position. At least he thought it was—but his eyes seemed to be freezing solid in the brisk wind so he wasn’t quite certain what he was looking at. “Gran, what’s this?”

  She smiled merrily. “Isn’t it nice? They call it a sieve, or something like that, I can’t think why. Have you got the keys, Lissa? I’ll put this stuff in the back.”

  “An SUV,” he said faintly. “You bought an SUV just so you could get your tree home, Gran?”

  “Of course not,” she said indignantly.

  Kurt gave a small sigh of relief. That sounded more like his grandmother. Renting the vehicle for the day, or borrowing it from a good-hearted neighbor, would make a great deal more sense than actually buying it.

  “We’ll be hauling all kinds of stuff as we clear the house out,” his grandmother said, “and it would have been simply too hard for Lissa to get big boxes of things in and out of that little car. So I decided to make it easier on her.”

  His jaw had dropped, and now his tongue was starting to freeze.

  “Besides,” his grandmother went on, “the nice salesman gave me a whole lot more money for my car than you thought it was worth, so trading ended up being much more sensible than just selling it for taxi fare. And you did tell Lissa to buy me new tires, so—”

  Kurt sputtered, “Dammit, Lissa, you told her about the tires?”

  She sounded defensive. “Well, you didn’t actually say I shouldn’t mention it. And I thought if she understood that you really would like to do something for her—”

  Kurt couldn’t even find his voice.

  Hannah said, “You thought I’d turn down the gift if I knew about it, didn’t you? But Lissa was very convincing that I should let you make things easier for me.” Hannah opened the passenger door and stood back to show it off. “Isn’t this nice? See how the little board slides out automatically, so I have a step? Don’t forget to give him the bill, Lissa.” She climbed up into the SUV and firmly closed the door.

  “The bill? You mean the bill for the—?”

  Lissa was very convincing that I should let you make things easier for me.

  Lisa looked at him with a gleam in her eyes that made him long to choke her. Then she pulled a sheaf of paper out of the pocket of her overcoat.

  Kurt muttered, “Gran would be the one person on the planet to get confused about the difference between a set of tires and a set of wheels. I didn’t intend to buy her a whole—”

  “Remember?” Lissa chided. “You said you’re not the one who has the cheap streak. Well, here’s your chance to prove it. And from now on when you ride with me you won’t feel you’re in a tomato soup can!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT HAD TAKEN Lissa most of the afternoon to feel truly warm again after being out in the brisk wind so much of the morning. Shopping for a Christmas tree, wandering through the dealer’s entire assortment of SUVs, and then standing in the parking lot discussing both purchases with Kurt had left her chilled to the bone.

  So she wasn’t at all surprised when Kurt came into the living room late in the afternoon and without a word went straight to the fireplace to hold his hands over the flames. He’d been out in that parking lot without even a coat when he’d still been perspiring from his stunt on the climbing wall. It would be no wonder if he was feeling the after-effects of that knife-edged wind even hours later.

  The room felt different to Lissa the moment he walked in—though it wasn’t so much the gust of cold air he brought with him as something far less tangible. The tang of testosterone, she told herself wryly, watching him out of the corner of her eye from her cross-legged position on the carpet almost under the Christmas tree. The air seemed to sparkle with the power of his presence.

  He’d changed out of the stretchy, close-fitting climbing gear he’d been wearing in the store that morning and into a bulky sweater and wool trousers. She preferred him in street clothes, she decided, because the hardness and strength of his body weren’t quite
so blatant. That didn’t mean he was easy to ignore, of course—the man still moved like a well-oiled machine. But at least every muscle wasn’t obvious, as it had been this morning, reminding her with his every twitch that once—just once, so long ago—she had stroked those muscles and luxuriated in the warmth and power of his body….

  It was a one-night stand, she reminded herself rudely. A bad soap opera, not classic literature. Get over it.

  “Have a cup of tea,” she suggested. “It’s a fresh pot.”

  Kurt turned his back to the fire, as if to baste his spine in warmth. “I’d rather have a stiff Scotch.”

  Lissa shook her head. “Alcohol doesn’t warm you up, it only fools you into thinking you’re comfortable.” She reached for another box—this one simply marked Xmas decorations—and wondered what was likely to be in it. She’d already unearthed a papier-maché nativity set, a collection of angels which took her breath away, and an assortment of Santa statues which could outfit a gift shop at the North Pole.

  “I’m more interested in its pain-killing properties. The fire’s taking the edge off the cold, but it would help my attitude immensely if you weren’t playing ‘Let It Snow’ in the background.”

  Lissa considered turning up the volume. Instead, she got up and poured him a cup from the still-steaming teapot. “Here. At least drink this first. It’ll warm you up and improve your mood. If anything can.”

  “Watch out, Lissa. Someone might think you’re concerned about me.”

  She sank down beside the stack of boxes once more. “I’ve had pneumonia, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Of course, you deserve to get at least a good old-fashioned cold. Standing in the parking lot in your shirtsleeves like that, even if you hadn’t still been soaked from doing your stunt on that wall thing—”

  “That wall thing is one of the most popular features of my stores.”

  “Popular, maybe. Profitable, no way. It can’t possibly be, after you pay the insurance costs.”

  “I have a perfectly good team of accountants, Lissa, so anytime you’re finished imitating a professional you can stop analyzing my business.”

  She felt herself color with irritation. All right, maybe she had been showing off a bit, making it clear that she knew a few things about profits and losses—but did he have to clip her quite so hard just because she didn’t have a set of letters after her name yet?

  “The wall draws people in to watch or to climb,” he pointed out. “And once they’re in the store, they usually buy something.”

  “Of course I know profit isn’t the only motive for offering a service. But—never mind.” She shifted a particularly heavy box, deliberately turning her back to him.

  “I see you got the tree set up without my help.”

  Lissa didn’t even look over her shoulder at him. “The handyman was here to finish clearing the snow off the walks, so your grandmother enlisted him.” She took a deep breath of pine scent. The tree’s fragrance was gradually filling the room as the branches relaxed in the warmth.

  “This was the biggest one the two of you could find, right?”

  “It’s a little larger than I thought it was,” Lissa admitted. The spread of the tree’s lowest limbs took up almost half the width of the room.

  Kurt drained the teacup and went to pour himself a drink from the cabinet in the dining room. “Want a glass of wine or something?”

  Lissa shook her head. “Sorting out these boxes is making me dizzy enough, thanks.”

  “Where’s Gran, by the way? I thought decorating this tree was her pet project.”

  “Well, she’s pretty good at delegating the parts she doesn’t want to do. I don’t suppose you’d want to work on untangling the strings of lights?”

  “Good guess.”

  “Hannah would like the lights to be on so she can start decorating after her nap.”

  “Then you have your job cut out for you. She’s taking another nap?”

  “What’s wrong with a nap every afternoon? She’s had a busy day. When we were looking for just the right tree she was inexhaustible—but an eighty-year-old woman can’t keep up that pace forever.”

  “And then there was the SUV to buy,” Kurt said. “Why did you let her do that, anyway?”

  “Let her?” Lissa’s voice was an incredulous squeak. “I’d have liked to see you stop her, once she got the notion in her head!”

  He went straight on without apology. “That’s the big question, you know. Just how did she get the notion in her head?”

  “All I told her was that you wanted her to have new, safe tires, and you’d make it part of her Christmas gift. In fact, I asked her if she wanted me to take care of it so she wouldn’t have to bother. She said no, she’d talk to her favorite mechanic to get some advice about what sort of tires would be best for her car. Of course as soon as she set foot in the dealership—”

  “The salespeople were on her like vultures, I suppose.”

  “They didn’t exactly take advantage of her,” Lissa said reluctantly. “All the salespeople were busy, in fact—so she wandered around, looking at all the tires in the showroom. Then her feet started to hurt and she decided to sit down inside an SUV, and when she spotted the friendly little running board sliding out to help her climb in she fell in love.”

  Kurt groaned.

  “Then it was just a question of which color she wanted. We had to look at every one they had in stock so she could decide. I didn’t realize there were so many colors. If you’re worried about the money—”

  “I’m not.” His voice was clipped.

  “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you were,” she said with mock sympathy. “It can’t be cheap to start up yet another brand-new store, and when you’ve got a whole chain in expansion mode—”

  “I’m not in any financial difficulty, but thanks for your concern.”

  “I’m very glad to hear it. Anyway, what I was just going to tell you is that Hannah was only joking about you paying for her new car.”

  “And I suppose that’s why you handed me the bill?”

  “Obviously you still haven’t looked at those papers. If you had just listened to me this morning instead of shoving everything in your pocket and walking away—”

  “Are you nuts? If I hadn’t walked away I’d still be standing there. Only by now I’d be imitating an ice sculpture.”

  “It would be the perfect job for you,” Lissa muttered. “If you’d stuck around for thirty seconds longer I would have told you that she wrote a check for it.”

  Kurt’s eyebrows had raised a fraction. “She paid the entire amount?”

  “All except the tires. She seemed to think that was a really good joke.” She lifted the lid off the heavy box and peered inside. “You wouldn’t happen to know why Hannah would have spray-painted a bunch of bricks bright red and packed them up with the Christmas stuff, would you?”

  Kurt shrugged. “Not a clue.”

  Lissa stacked the bricks neatly to one side, set the box into the pile of empties, and dragged the next carton over in front of her. “And that’s another subject, you know. Keeping that sort of money lying around in an ordinary demand deposit account makes no sense whatsoever when she could be earning interest on it.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. A checking account seems a whole lot smarter to me than keeping cash in an envelope in a boarding house.”

  “I’ll do my best to remember that next time I have a small fortune to invest. My point is, she could be earning a lot more in a money market fund than in an ordinary checking account.”

  “Now that it’s spent,” Kurt said, “it doesn’t seem to matter much where she had it stashed. In an envelope, under her mattress, at the bank—what’s the difference? What’s she going to do with a vehicle like that in a retirement village?”

  “Take all her friends out for joyrides, I suppose.”

  “Who’s going to drive? Are you planning to extend your two weeks into permanent employment?”

  Lissa
felt a little stab of regret. Two weeks—and one of her precious fourteen days of freedom was already nearly gone. “Of course not. By then she’ll have seen a doctor, and maybe with an adjustment in her medication she’ll be able to drive again.”

  “Oh, that would be a real relief,” he said dryly. “Gran at the controls of a sport utility vehicle—”

  “Well, you have to admit she’ll be safer in the SUV than in the tomato can, no matter who’s behind the wheel.”

  “That’s true,” he conceded. “I’m not convinced there’s a penny’s worth of difference between the two of you when it comes to driving skills.”

  She shot a narrow look at him over the box she’d just opened, which seemed to be full of garishly colored needlepoint Christmas stockings.

  “Retirement villages provide transportation,” Kurt said. “Buses and vans and wheelchair lifts and all that stuff. The residents don’t have to drive at all.”

  “Maybe, but I can’t quite see Hannah scheduling her massage times to fit the bus driver’s schedule. Maybe she really bought the SUV because she’s planning to have you take her mountain climbing? There’s plenty of room for the gear in the back, plus four-wheel drive so you can go off-road and rough it.”

  “Gran? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Lissa shook out a ruffled lace tree skirt which had been crushed under the needlepoint stockings and pretended not to look at him. “You didn’t seem to want her to move into a retirement village anyway. What’s your plan? That she move in with you instead?”

  She was a little surprised that he didn’t react to the bait. Instead he planted one hip against the arm of the couch, right above where she was working, and meditatively swirled his drink.

  “You’re looking a little flushed,” she said. “Are you feeling all right? Because pneumonia can really—”

  “You can stop trying so hard to convince me you had pneumonia, Lissa.”

  She was startled. “What? Why would I lie to you about—?”

  “I’m convinced. Your background check said it was quite a case you had.”

  She gritted her teeth. “You ran a background check on me?”